Paid in Full, a Thieves in Time story 17
by Orion Lyonesse
Summary: Old friends and old and new enemies show up to disturb the peace of Avilla. Can Avon keep his family safe or will he lose Vila and Serran, in payment for past crimes? Follows 'Treasures'. A/V.
1. Murder Most Foul

_A/N: It's been several years since 'Avon's Little Girl' and Serran is almost 19 now. Avon and Vila are 54 and well settled into their estate. Just when things look normal, chaos breaks into their little world._

_Neither the characters from Blake's Seven nor Darkover belong to me. I just like to play with them!_

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The ship was approaching what at first appeared to be a desolate, deserted planet.

"Are you sure this is the correct planet?" the young man at the controls asked the woman sitting beside him.

"Positive," she answered. "It has been many years but I could not forget something that important."

"I understand." He laid a graceful hand over her forearm.

"Son," she hesitated, "when this last task is completed, perhaps we can all live in peace. I simply have to be sure; that's why we came."

A tell-tale light flashed, then the soft buzz of an alarm.

"Initiating landing sequence," he called out softly. "We're almost there, mother.

A sudden, unexpected concussion rocked the craft.

"What was that?"

"When I was here before," she explained, "the atmosphere had been seeded with random proximity mines. Be very careful."

He skillfully piloted the ship into the atmosphere. It lowered, then skimmed the surface.

"Bring us to cruising speed, Torr, and set the sensors to detect any foreign structures or life forms. I'm positive they're still here. They had no way to leave."

He did as instructed, his eyes on the viewscreen before him while she watched the main viewport.

It took several passes and half an orbit before the sensors reported anything unusual. "There," he pointed to a tiny blip. "It doesn't look like much but it does register as man-made rather than natural."

"It's a beginning," she whispered. "Oh, Blake, you'd better be down there."

The sensor array began to glow, indicating a heat source below. Torr slowed the ship's speed and descent so that it was only a scant fifteen meters from the surface.

"Careful," she cautioned him. "We don't know what we'll find after all these years."

"I'm always careful, mother."

She looked into his face, his voice taking her back in time. "You look so much like you r father, Torr." She ran a finger down his smooth cheek.

"You know I don't like to be reminded of that."

Their exchange was interrupted by a sudden beeping from the sensor panel. "That's what I was looking for," she said with a smile. "Now there's just one more thing to locate."

Torr nodded, adjusting the control for a very narrow beam.

He peered intently at the screen as the equipment searched for something he'd only been told about. If it existed, and Torr had no doubt that it did, they would find it, use it, and then destroy it!

"We'll be touching down in less that two minutes, mother."

"Excellent. Just make sure we're not seen by whoever is occupying those buildings."

"I've had my detector screens at maximum since before we made orbit. They are still registering at one-hundred percent. There's no way they could have spotted us." He turned his attention to bringing the ship to a smooth landing.

They un-strapped, secured the ship and exited. "It appears we have a short walk ahead of us." She indicated the low cluster of buildings in the distance. "Shall we go?" she said, quirking a dark, arching eyebrow.

They walked in silence, each lost in thoughts of revenge and retribution.

_Oh, yes_, she thought. _You have much to atone for, Avon, and it won't be long now. It's taken me years but my wait is almost over. You WILL fall!_

Surprisingly, the detector beam led them away from the buildings. A frown wrinkled the young man's pale, unlined brow. "You're sure the weapon is still operational?" Torr asked her.

"As sure as I can be without testing it."

He pointed. "It appears to be located approximately one kilometer in that direction."

They walked in silence a bit longer, Torr constantly checking his pocket sensor. "I think we've reached it." Pulled the small shovel from his backpack, he began to dig. "According to the sensor," he said, "it should be less than a meter down."

She saw the intense look on the young man's face at the unaccustomed physical exertion. _You are so much like him it hurts me. I just hope it hurts him _as much when the time comes.

"Why they didn't just destroy it?" Torr wondered aloud as he dug, his voice as labored as his breathing.

She shrugged delicately. "Perhaps they meant to retrieve it and use it again someday, who knows?"

After a time, Torr's spade struck something hard. "I think I may have found it."

"Careful then, son. I'll help you." Oblivious to the dirt staining her white jumpsuit, she knelt in the soil and helped him pull the long narrow box from its hiding place.

Torr opened the lid, pulling the marking portion out and handing the activator to his mother. "What kind of a test did you have in mind?"

"There are only two human inhabitants on this world," she answered. "They should suffice. Shall we go and introduce ourselves?"

They walked back toward the group of buildings, neither of them speaking, as her plans of revenge solidified into cold reality.

At the entrance to the compound, Torr took the lead, making sure his mother was shielded behind him. He drew his own weapon, walking carefully, listening for anything to indicate the buildings were still occupied. They went into what appeared to be the main entrance. Looking around, it was obvious that the building were either in use now or very recently had been. The layer of dust that had covered everything years before was gone. It was clean, orderly and spartan.

"Who are you?" The quiet, female voice startled them both.

The woman turned languidly, appraising the woman. "You don't remember me, do you, Rashel?"

"Servalan?" Disbelief colored her reaction. This was the last person she'd expected to see here.

A wintry smile spread across her lips. She cocked her head slightly. "Well, perhaps I've not changed that much then, have I?'

"I would have known you anywhere," she bit out.

"I'm flattered." Servalan smiled, inclining her head with a graciousness that had charmed many heads of state. Then she went deadly serious, her dark eyes boring into the younger woman's. "Now, where's Blake?"

"He's not here. I haven't seen him for months."

"You're lying, Rashel, badly. You haven't been living here alone for long, if at all." She picked up a large, battered jacket from the back of a chair. "I suppose this is yours, then?"

She hesitated, searching for a believable lie. "He left it behind in case I needed it."

"Well, if you insist, we'll just have to conduct our little test on you." She turned to Torr, who pointed the weapon at the now terrified Rashel and pulled the trigger.

Before she even had the chance to scream, Servalan pressed the button on the activator and Rashel crumpled to the cement floor.

"Well, at least we know it still works," Torr commented, with no feeling for the woman his mother had just murdered.

"Oh, yes," she whispered, "but we must make sure no one ever has the chance to use it on us." Servalan took the rifle portion of the weapon from him and placed it on the ground between them. "Destroy it, Torr."

The young man did as directed, grinding the thing under his boots, jumping back to avoid the sparks when the weapon exploded.

"Our mission here is accomplished, my son. It's time we left."

The pair left the compound quickly, taking the IMIPAK activator with them.

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_A/N: We can guess where she's headed next, but will she come upon Avon and Vila unprepared? Find out in the next chapter, 'The Visitor'._


	2. The Visitor

_A/N: Visions from the past disturb Avon, as an impossibility arrives at Avilla._

_Neither the characters from Blake's Seven nor Darkover belong to me. I just like to play with them!_

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Silvery mane flying in the wind, black cape snapping behind him, Avon rode the powerful black steed full tilt into the courtyard. Even before the big gelding had touched down from its rearing stop, Avon had flung himself from the saddle and was striding up the steps to the manor house's arched double doors, leaving the stable boy running up with the job of securing the horse.

Inside, he hastily shed his cape and gloves, shouting, "Vila, where are you? You sent for me and it had better be good! Your messenger interrupted a very important operation." He strode across the vast entrance hall to the double doors of the library and slid them open.

The tableaux revealed stopped him cold. Vila sat comfortably behind Avon's own massive oaken desk, while across from him sat an…impossibility: Blake! Dressed in his usual big-sleeved shirt and leather vest and breeches, he looked little different than the last time Avon had seen him, although that time he'd been dead. His hair had grayed, his face aged but unscarred. It was undeniably Blake.

"Come in, Avon, we have guests." Vila waved Avon to the seat he'd hastily vacated. Moving around the desk, he sat down on Blake's right. Avon moved slowly into the room and around the desk to take his accustomed place, keeping his eyes on the enigma lounging in the overstuffed chair and eyeing him carefully, a slight, amused grin on his face.

"Who…are you?" Avon asked, with only a hint of threat.

"Isn't it evident, Avon?" came the deep, well-remembered voice, as Blake tilted his head quizzically to the side, such a familiar gesture that Avon's heart threatened to seize, and smiled.

"If it was evident, I wouldn't have asked it," he ground out. "Answer me. Now."

"Obviously, I am one of Blake's duplicates," their guest replied, calmly staring back at Avon.

"And to what do we owe this…visit? Just what do you want?"

"Now, Avon," Vila interrupted, aggrieved at his mate's less-than-gracious reception of one Vila viewed as a guest, "that's not a very friendly way to greet Blake, is it?"

"That man isn't Blake!" Avon spit out. "Blake is dead; I killed him over twenty years ago. We paid for that and clawed our way back from that disaster. I will not allow another Blake to ruin my life again!" he finished, standing now and leaning toward them over braced arms, in his eyes hate and more than a little fear, which was obvious to Vila, if not to Blake.

Vila raised a hand to ward off Avon's hostility and, perhaps, to placate him a little. "At least hear him out, Avon. You don't have to agree to anything, just listen, please?" he pleaded.

Avon sank back into his chair, all the tension going out of him at once. He bowed his head, his long hair falling forward to obscure his deeply-lined face from the two awaiting his response. He remained motionless for some time with only the crackling from the great fireplace lending any sign of life to the room. Vila and Blake were almost holding their breaths when Avon raised his head again and glared at Blake.

"All right, explain yourself, Blake. You have your hearing, but don't think that you will get any special attention, just because you look like my Blake." His voice was hard, implacable, giving Blake a brief glimpse of the man who had come back from the debacle on Gauda Prime, come back from madness, come back to create a good life with Vila on this backwater planet. His strength was apparent, also his unbending nature. Blake knew he had to proceed very carefully.

After collecting his thoughts for a moment, Blake began. "As I said, I am Blake's duplicate. We've never met, but I feel as if I know you, Avon." He turned his gaze up from studying his hands to glance at Avon's face. "Rashel…and I were marooned with Imipak on that planet." His voice caught as he mentioned Rashel. He dropped his eyes once more to his hands. "My wife…died…recently. Rather, she was killed! Someone…came to our home, looking for Imipak, after all these years. She was alone and…they used it on her. She…was dead when I returned. They didn't know the internal security cameras were operational, though. After I found her, I checked the tape-log and saw who had killed her." He raised his head and locked stares with Avon. "Then I came to you, to get your help. When the Clonemasters created me, they instilled a reverence for all life, but I buried that with Rashel. Now I want revenge and you're the only ones I could turn to. Will you help me?" he finished, looking calmly into Avon's eyes.

"And if it comes down to it, can you take another's life?" Avon asked the man curiously.

The man's smile of assent was more of a grimace. "Oh, yes. If it's the right life, I can kill easily." He looked Avon straight in the eyes before finishing. "The same as you."

Avon blanched, as Vila caught the comment and interrupted.

Vila had listened, entranced, to Blake's story, then reached across to lay a sympathizing hand on Blake's arm. Now he turned a distressed gaze to Avon and asked, "Can we help him, Avon? Dare we help him?" He knew how easily their lives could be destroyed, because it had happened before, too many times.

Avon wasn't ready to answer that question yet. He had several of his own that needed answers first. "How did you find us? Who killed Rashel? And most importantly, what happened to Imipak?" Avon demanded.

"Fair enough," Blake acceded, nodding. "After we got the old Federation facility back in working order, we…explored, using their computers. I don't remember how it first happened, but we were contacted by ORAC, oh, years ago. It always felt to me that he…it…thought of me as a real Blake, especially after my original died. It felt as if Rashel and I were…I don't know…adopted by ORAC. He made it possible for us to get supplies, by contacting one of the Liberator's old crew."

"Old crew? Who…who's left? They all died on Gauda Prime, except us." Avon regarded Blake in shock, remembering only then that Vila had said "guests". Then he spun as he heard another person stride into the room through the open double doors.

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_A/N: Who indeed? It's one shock after another for Avon this day! Find out in the next chapter, 'An Old Friend and an Old Enemy'.._


	3. An Old Friend and an Old Enemy

_A/N: More of their past returns to haunt Avon and Vila._

_Neither the characters from Blake's Seven nor Darkover belong to me. I just like to play with them!_

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"I'm left, Avon." Jenna Stannis marched up to him and stood staring defiantly, her hands on her hips, in a well-remembered pose.

"J…Jenna?" Avon stammered. "We thought you were dead when you disappeared after Star One. You…never came back, you never contacted us, any of us." Then he had a flash of insight. "Blake knew you were alive, didn't he," Avon snapped.

"No, Avon, I never contacted him personally. I went back to my pirate friends, smuggling for whoever would pay the most for the job. I never saw Blake alive again after Star One." She glared at him dangerously. "ORAC told me you'd killed him on Gauda Prime. Is that true?"

Caught by her glare, Avon couldn't answer immediately. "Yes, I killed him." he said finally. "I…believed he'd betrayed me. I was mad, quite insane, by that time."

Vila rushed to Avon's defense then. He rose and approached the two Alphas standing practically nose to nose. "Jenna, he couldn't help himself, he was only trying to survive. That survival instinct of his is all that kept him and me alive that day. You can't blame him for Blake's death. If you have to blame anyone, it would have to be Blake himself, or his methods, or the way he treated Avon." Vila ran down and stopped. The hands he'd been gesturing so vehemently with fell limp to his sides, his eyes pleading with Jenna to understand.

She looked arrogantly at Vila throughout, and now turned to Avon. "Your little thief defends you quite eloquently," she sighed, then continued, "but it has been a long time since Blake died. I certainly don't feel qualified to judge you at this late date." She tossed back her silvery hair and rubbed a hand across her eyes.

Thought looking toward Blake, she spoke to Avon. "None of this is helping him, though, and he's why I'm here, not to dig up old scores. I suggest we put aside our differences and let Blake finish his story."

Her very demeanor calmed Avon and reassured Vila. Avon resumed his seat behind the big desk, while Vila ushered Jenna to a chair next to Blake. Avon waited expectantly, silently, for whatever revelations Blake would add to his already upsetting story.

Blake resumed. "After ORAC contacted Jenna, she helped us acquire the things we needed to survive." He glanced at her fondly and smiled. "She came as often as she could and became a good friend to us both." His smile was extinguished as he thought of Rashel. "We made a fairly comfortable life together on our little planet. There wasn't any reason for us to leave. Then, when Rashel died, I asked ORAC how to find you."

Avon became almost apoplectic. "ORAC…told you where to find me! Oh, this is too much! This time I will destroy that devious piece of circuitry!" With that, he marched purposefully across the room to the smaller desk, pressed several buttons in sequence, and waited while a hidden panel opened, and ORAC slid silently from the revealed crevice. Taking the key from its own hiding place, he rammed it home forcibly and ORAC came to sputtering life.

+What is it, Avon?+ came the familiar irritated voice of the super computer. +Why have you interrupted my research again?+

"You told Blake's clone how to find me. What RIGHT did you have to reveal that to him?" Avon demanded. "Explain yourself."

+I do not need to justify myself to you, Avon,+ returned the peevish voice. +It was necessary that he find you, to secure your help.+ ORAC sounded reasonable, but Avon wasn't convinced.

"You had no right, ORAC, no right at all!" Avon's mood was leaning more toward distress than anger by now. He slammed his fist on the desk and turned back toward Vila and Blake, dismissing ORAC for the moment, but promising himself he'd deal with the old lightbox in the near future. After he'd dealt with Blake.

Blake continued, "I'm…sorry if this is distressing to you, Avon, but I know of no way to ease it for you. The reason I came to you to help me avenge my wife's death is that you are already involved in this."

"Who killed your wife, Blake?" Avon asked almost gently. He had a bad feeling that he wouldn't like what Blake was about to reveal.

"Servalan."

Avon shot from his chair in astonishment. Vila gasped and pressed back in his own seat as though to hide from that terrible name. Only Jenna remained untouched; she already knew about Blake's mission.

"Servalan," Avon hissed. "I haven't heard or thought of her in over a decade. And now she lands in the midst of my life threatening to destroy it again. How I've hated that woman for all she's done to me and mine. Now it seems I'm to be dragged kicking and screaming back into her orbit." Avon seemed to be talking to himself, for he certainly didn't appear to see any of the other. His eyes had a faraway look that Vila didn't like; it reminded him too much of Avon the Madman. Vila waited.

Suddenly, startling all the humans present, Avon snapped out, "ORAC, what is Servalan up to?" He rounded the desk and strode purposely over to the computer. In his chair, Vila breathed a soft sigh of relief. If Avon was searching for answers, he was accepting the situation and dealing with it rationally. He'd been afraid, almost from the start, that this situation, these people, would throw Avon back into the self-destructive madman he'd been on Gauda Prime or the destroyed man he'd brought to Darkover so long ago.

+Servalan hasn't been heard from for some years now. She dropped out of sight briefly after the Liberator was lost. She reappeared for two years, then disappeared from political life. Word is that she purchased a planet and settled there with her retainers. She has recently been active, apparently purchasing a small fleet of ships.+

Avon protested, "It's been twenty years since Gauda Prime. Why now? What can she hope to gain at this late date by pursuing me? With the Federation crumbling under its own weight, she can't be making a bid for political power. Why?" He paced the floor near ORAC's desk, his head bowed in concentration.

Blake was the only one who dared interrupt his reverie. "I think I know the answer to that, Avon, if I may?" He stood and approached Avon warily, still not sure if he was a friend or a potentially dangerous foe.

"I…think she want you, Avon. You and she are the only ones living that are marked by Imipak and she has it. Please, Avon, help me avenge my wife," Blake pleaded. "I know she will come to kill you with that weapon. After that, I believe she plans to destroy the weapon for good."

"Servalan…coming here?" Vila croaked, his face going white at the mere thought.

Avon looked around at Blake and considered him a moment. Then he smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile and even Blake felt its impact. "Oh, yes…She would come looking for me, now. And this time we will be ready for her." He spun toward the small desk. "ORAC! Can you display the internal surveillance camera's recordings of Servalan's visit to Blake's base?"

+Of course I can.+

"Then do so. Edit them together so that we get a continuous picture of the events from her landing to departure. Feed them to the screen in the small sitting room."

+Affirmative. It will take a few moments.+

"Just do it," he snapped, then turned to the others. "If you will all follow Vila, he will show you the way."

Vila gave him a sharp glance, knowing Avon was planning something or worried about something, but he had their guests to consider, a responsibility he did not take lightly. Here, in their home, hospitality was his purview and he took that very seriously.

Graciously, he gestured them to follow him out of the library and down the hall, leaving Avon standing alone.

As soon as Vila and their guests were out of earshot, Avon snapped, "ORAC, check the location of Servalan's ship. I want to know immediately when she nears our system," he sad forcefully.

+Servalan's ship is about two hours behind Jenna's, still one hour out.+ For once, ORAC wasn't complaining. Perhaps he thought his own survival might depend on current events.

Avon gasped softly. So close! He had to think, to make plans to safeguard himself, Vila and Serran, Blake and Jenna. He ran an agitated hand through his white hair, his mind shifting into high gear, a necessity he hadn't felt needed for quite some time. The game had begun.

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_A/N: Servalan has always seemed to be a step ahead of Avon. Can he protect his love and his new life from her this time? Find out in 'Time for a Plan'._


	4. Time for a Plan

Part 4 Time for a Plan (818)

They were all seated in the smaller sitting room, the viewscreen open and ready for ORAC's presentation. Vila was pouring drinks for everyone, making sure there was an ample supply of the brandy Avon favored.

"Well, let's get to it, shall we?" Avon said, a grim edge to his voice. "ORAC?"

ORAC automatically dimmed the overhead lights and cued the surveillance tape. It flickered at first then became sharper, the voices distinct, every word clear.

_So I have a son, do I?_ Avon thought, looking over to Vila, seeing the same wide-eyed realization on his mate's face. _But why don't I remember?_ he pondered.

He watched stoically, then cast a sideways glance at Blake whose face had gone white as he once more watched the murder of his wife. Avon stopped the tape and turned to Blake. "If you'd rather not see this, I'll understand."

"No," the man whispered, "I must know all that happened. I must." Avon activated the tape again.

++…well at least we know it still works,++ they all heard Torr's voice from the speaker.

"Damn!" Avon broke out, swearing under his breath, then louder. "Damn her to hell and back!"

The tape came to its conclusion and stopped.

"Well, does anyone wish to view any portion of that again?" Avon asked acerbically. "I, for one, have seen enough and I think our job is clear as it stands." The lights came up without his prompting.

No one contradicted his pronouncement. He turned to ORAC. "I assume you now have information on the approaching ship?"

+Affirmative. It is the independent shuttle NEMESIS, carrying two passengers only. It should be in range to request landing instructions shortly. When it calls, shall I comply?+

"Yes, ORAC, you may most definitely comply. Tell them to land close to the house." Avon's gritty whisper carried to every corner of the room. "I look forward to greeting both its passengers…in person."

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"I will not leave you, Father!" Serran shouted, her eyes blazing with fury and frustration. "Please don't send me away! Uncle Vila, tell him!" She turned, to find Vila shaking his head sadly.

"I'm afraid I agree with Avon this time. I have to stay here, but I won't have you or any of our people in danger. You're the only one we can trust to take care of them. You must leave," Vila finished, reasonable, if emphatic.

Bowing her head in defeat before the combined force of Avon and Vila, she said, "All right, I'll take our people to safely, but the moment I feel it's safe, I'm coming back! I can follow the events in this house through your mind, Father, without disturbing you in any way, if you'll let me. I'll go, if you'll allow that." She lifted her green eyes to his dark brown ones, seeing the warring emotions there. She knew how he valued the privacy of his own mind, but felt justified in this blackmail and defiantly stood by her demand.

He stared darkly at her for several moments. She's so like her mother, especially when she's angry. And she's just a stubborn. But oh, how I love them both.

"All right, Serran, have it your way, but you must get going now. Use all the vehicles you need, but get everyone safely away from here within the hour." His face softened as he continued, "I hope this won't last long, but there never was much point in second guessing Servalan. Now, go. Vila will help you gather everyone."

Impulsively, Serran threw her arms around Avon's neck and kissed him on the cheek. Before he could react, she turned in a swirl of riding skirts and was gone. Vila, with a quirked eyebrow at Avon, swiftly followed.

Avon sighed and continued his own preparations.

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"We have received instructions to land on the private holdings of someplace called Avilla," Torr told his mother.

"I'm not surprised. They must know by now exactly what happened, and if my guess is correct, they have all gathered and are awaiting the final players in this game."

"Landing in five minutes, then."

She nodded, her eyes narrowing as she put the finishing touches on the plan that had taken its first roots more than forty standard years earlier. "Oh, yes, Avon, my love," she whispered, not caring if her son heard. "Very soon, it will all be over."

Torr brought the shuttle in a low circle over the estate. Servalan leaned toward the viewport, looking down at the massive structure, almost primitive by her standard, more like a castle from old-calendar Earth. I never realized you were so old-fashioned, Avon, she thought.

As before, the young man piloted the craft to a quiet, easy landing and shut down all the systems.

"Well," he said, "shall we go visit my father?"

"By all means, my son, let's."

She took his arm and they left the ship together.


	5. Confrontation

_A/N: How will Avon take facing this unknown son, let alone Servalan?_

_Neither the characters from Blake's Seven nor Darkover belong to me. I just like to play with them!_

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Vila opened the door and gasped to himself. _My gods, it's like seeing Avon from more than forty years ago._ He quickly recovered his composure, however, and greeted the pair.

"Welcome to Avilla."

"Why, Vila, how very nice to see you again," she purred, inclining her head, still in that short, cropped style she'd adopted as a teenager, after she'd broken up with Avon and broken up Vila's happy home.

"The servants are all otherwise occupied, so Avon asked me to meet you. Please come this way." He ushered them inside and closed the massive doors behind them.

"Mother, this is not quite what I expected from all the things you told me," Torr hissed as they followed Vila across the vast entry hall.

"I can't say I'm totally surprised," she replied softly. "Avon always did appreciate the finer things in life."

"I wonder who all lives here," Torr ventured. "Surely there must be more here than just him and the servants."

They reached the library door, and Servalan's heart was racing as she realized she was about to come face to face with the man she had sworn to ruin so long ago. The desire for revenge had become so much a part of her, so comfortable, that she'd almost forgotten how much of a burden it had been at the beginning. Now it weighed heavily on her again. Could she actually pull it off? Did she have the courage to finish what she'd started that day with her vow to topple him from the heights? And then what? What would become of her, of her son, after it was done? That actually frightened her, though she would never have admitted it, possibly even to herself. All her life, all her energy, all her planning, had led up to this moment. Never had it occurred to her to wonder what would come after she achieved her revenge.

"Mother?" Torr interrupted her thoughts of the past. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, quite," she answered, taking his arm and letting him lead her gallantly toward their shared fate.

Vila opened the library doors and Servalan glided gracefully into the room one step ahead of her son. Outwardly, she was still a striking woman, and inappropriately dressed as ever. The simple, black gown was floor length and slit up to the thigh on one side, showing still-shapely legs and stiletto heeled shoes. When she swept off the white fur cape, her arms were bare, as was one shoulder.

Avon eyed her, remembering past confrontations and the way her silky skin felt. He noted her still-unlined face and pure black hair, kept so by vanity, Avon assumed, and as short as always. With her svelte shape, she was as beautiful as ever, but something, some note of discord, jarred Avon. He knew he mustn't underestimate this woman who seemingly delighted in ruining his life time after time. With a rueful smile as he remembered their first encounter, he stepped forward to greet her.

As their hands touched, he became aware of the man following her, silent as a shadow. An electric thrill lanced through him as he turned to confront the ghost of himself in black leather. Mentally, he thanked Vila for keeping him from ever being that grim.

Torr, however, wasn't immediately interested in Avon. He strode over to Jenna, standing next to Blake. "So, this is the mate you left my mother for," he snarled, circling Jenna appraisingly. Jenna, feeling Blake begin to bristle, laid a quieting hand on his arm.

Avon laughed at his incorrect deductions. "Jenna? No, you're quite mistaken." He fell silent then, knowing it was important he keep his and Vila's relationship secret for Vila's sake.

"Then who?" Torr demanded, turning rapidly to confront Avon for the first time.

Blandly, he replied, "None of you business, young man."

The force of Torr's furious backhanded slap snapped Avon's head sideways. When his vision cleared, he found Torr glaring at him, practically nose to nose.

Torr's voice dropped to a low threatening whisper. "You will tell me, Avon. I am quite capable of killing everyone in this house, one by one, till I get the right person, and I think you know it." He stepped back to let his words sink in.

For Avon and Torr both, the world narrowed to only two pairs of identical dark eyes, staring, measuring, appraising. In those few moments, each one was brought into sharp focus for the other.

Torr smiled an Avonish smile of satisfaction, knowing his father's strengths and weaknesses. For his part, Avon was chilled to the bone by the knowledge that this young man, so like himself, was entirely his mother's creature, with Avon's own madness overlaid on it all. Torr was quite literally the most dangerous man Avon had ever faced. For an instant, he despaired, loss of everything he treasured seemingly imminent. Then, his razor sharp mind leapt into action as he thought, I will not roll over and die, for then Vila's death is certain. I must fight, for him and for all I hold dear!

Torr saw the flash of despair and exalted inwardly, but when it was blanked out, he felt a twinge of disquiet at not knowing what had replaced the despair and why. He shook off the feeling and struck.

"Then who?" he repeated, not caring if his arrogance fired his father's anger again. "There was someone else after you left my mother, wasn't there?"

"Oh yes…most definitely." He stepped back in case it produced another attack.

Torr smiled at the reaction. "I'm glad to know you fear me after all…Father."

"I don't fear you. On the contrary, I pity you, if nothing else. Considering who your parents are, I'm surprised you've survived this long. As for being your father, for the life of me, I can't remember when you could have been conceived."

"Oh, Avon, you are a fool," Servalan taunted. "Don't you remember Terminal, when you thought you had seen Blake? I had you drugged and obtained a sperm sample. I planned it. I couldn't leave it to chance."

Even Torr was shocked at this disclosure. He'd never been privy the whole story. He looked at his mother's face, vaguely uneasy that she seemed almost proud of what she had done.

"I think I would rather you had raped me, Servalan," Avon said to her. "Somehow this seems beneath even your standards."

Torr took a step toward his father.

"Don't." Avon put up a hand to stop the attack he knew was coming. "I'm on to your tricks now, boy."

Avon deliberately looked at the portrait of himself and Vila hanging over the massive fireplace, then looked back at Torr and at that moment Torr KNEW.

As Torr made a grab for his father's throat, Avon moved away, though his locket came away, snagged in Torr's fingers. The younger man snapped it open quickly and looked at Vila's picture inside. He looked at the portrait, back at the locket again, then over at Vila, standing at Jenna's side.

"You!" he accused disbelievingly. He whirled, facing Vila, who had remained silent until now, afraid to interfere, yet afraid not to. Vila opened his mouth to speak, still searching for words, but never got the chance.

"Yes," Avon answered before Vila could confirm or deny it. "I've been with Vila since we were quite young, even before your mother and I met, as a matter of fact. She obviously never told you that, did she?"

"Never told me…" The young version of Avon seemed lost in thought as he began to remember comments his mother had made during his formative years, comments that had shaped his own feelings toward any who would take someone of their own sex as a lover. Oh, yes, she had laid her foundations well, had Servalan. Now he knew the truth about the man who was his father. This man had had a lover for most of his life, a male lover who had driven the wedge between his parents. Torr was suddenly blinded by an insane rage that was pure Avon in its origin. Before anyone could react, he drew his sidearm.

*Vila! Move!* Avon's desperate mental shout pierced Vila's shields like a hot knife through cheese.

Torr fired and Vila jerked sideways and would have fallen to the floor had not Jenna grabbed and held him, easing him down gently.

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_A/N: Has Servalan finally managed to take her revenge on Avon, by killing Vila? Find out in 'Of Death and Dying'._


	6. Of Death and Dying

_A/N: What is Vila's fate, and how will that affect Avon and his sanity?_

_Neither the characters from Blake's Seven nor Darkover belong to me. I just like to play with them!_

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"Oh, gods! Vila!" Avon started for his fallen lover. "Is he…?"

Jenna felt for and found a weak but steady pulse. "He's alive."

Avon whirled to face the man who had tried to take his love away from him. "I'll kill you…" He took a step toward his son.

"I think not, Avon," Servalan said softly as she raised the activator and pointed it at him. "Recognize this?"

Avon stopped cold. "Imipak."

"That's right, Avon, Imipak." She gestured with it. "And as I'm sure you already know, it still works. But perhaps we need another test. Coser said the marking would last a lifetime. Shall we test it?" She pressed button.

And nothing happened.

Avon released the breath he hadn't remembered he was holding. "Apparently Coser was mistaken about its lasting effect," Avon said. "Why don't you let me test it on you, just to make sure." The old Avon, the dangerous Avon, the Avon she'd thwarted and pursued across star systems and galaxies, smiled chillingly at her, his dark eyes burning.

"No! She's mine!" Blake's voice cut through the confusion. "I want her to die by my hand for what she did to my wife!" His weapon was drawn and pointed at Servalan with a determination that surprised even him.

"No!" Torr jumped between his mother and her would-be killer as the first shot was fired. He staggered towards Blake as the second shot hit him. He grappled with Blake as the third shot brought him down, his grip on the man's neck slowly loosening in death. Almost as if time had reversed upon itself, Blake took a step, straddling the young man's body, holding his weapon close. He smiled at Servalan, who rushed toward her son's body, then froze as she caught sight of Avon's face.

Avon looked first at Blake, then at Jenna, still holding Vila. _That can't be right_, he thought. He looked over at Servalan, now cradling their son's lifeless form. The events of the last few hours seemed to merge with those of a distant past. Avon didn't move, couldn't move. His eyes took on a catatonic glaze as he found it impossible to separate what had happened on Gauda Prime from those happening now. In his mind HE was standing over Blake. _But that's not Blake on the floor…that's me! There something wrong. Why is Jenna holding Vila? She wasn't even on Gauda Prime! Vila fell first! And why can't I move?_

Avon's thoughts continued to spiral out of control. He managed one despairing cry for help. "Vila…"

The fallen man heard, opened his eyes and answered weakly, "Avon…"

Blake made the first move, shattering the tableaux. Stepping away from Torr's body, ignoring the boy's sobbing mother, he grabbed Avon by his arms, shaking him slightly. "It's over," he rumbled. "It's over…at last. Come with me."

"Not…without…Vila…" Avon attempted to pull away from the larger man with no success. Blake saw the problem, turned and picked Vila up easily in his arms. "Now, Avon?"

Avon nodded, following Blake and his burden out of the room, with Jenna close behind. He stopped in the doorway and turned, almost as an afterthought. He looked at the woman he'd loved on and off for better than half his life. He saw the body of his son, a son he hadn't even known of until just a few hours before, a son he would never know. He swallowed back tears that should never have formed. "I should…"

"No, Avon, you should not!" Blake said emphatically, pulling him from the scene. "Leave her as she is."

Blake left Vila in Avon's care in the great estate kitchen, and returned to the library. He was cautious as he stepped back into the room, expecting at any moment that she would turn a weapon on him in revenge for her son's death. He was surprised when she simply stood and faced him.

"It had to end this way," she murmured. "I've felt it for a long time, hoping I was wrong."

He didn't understand. "I'm sorry, Servalan," was all he could say.

"Help me with him," she whispered, turning back. "He looks so…uncomfortable all crumpled up like that." She seemed to be drifting in her grief. Blake understood.

"Yes, I'll help you." He lifted the boy's body in strong arms and laid him gently on the large couch. His reverence for life reasserted itself as he realized he had been the instrument of this young man's death.

He watched as the distraught mother sat, pulling her son's head onto her lap, smoothing the dark hair he had inherited from both parents. She seemed lost in memories of another time and Blake felt he had no place here any longer. He wondered how long it would take for them to miss him if he simply left now.

"Blake?" Jenna's voice startled him.

He turned. She stood framed in the library doorway.

"Is Vila…"

"No, he'll be all right. He was lucky. If he hadn't moved when he did…But a few days' rest with limited activity and he should be fine, which is more than I can say for Avon."

"I wish there was something more I could do for him."

"You could stay here with him and Vila for awhile. They could probably use your help."

"No. They have enough reminders of the past without my adding another. But I have no way off this world…except for the way I arrived. I have no place to go, either."

"Come with me, then." She held out a hand. "It's been a lonely twenty years and I'm tired of talking to no one but myself."

He nodded. "That makes much more sense than staying here."

She took his big hand in hers and led him to the door.

Blake stopped, looking back towards the library. "What about her?"

"She's Avon's problem now, as she's always been."

"Then let's get out of here, while we still can."

Just as they neared them, the front doors burst open and Serran entered, almost barreling into Blake.

"Where are Father and Uncle Vila?" she demanded, when answered her own question mentally. Tearing through the halls, she disappeared before the two could say a word.

Jenna turned to Blake. "I think that young woman will take care of things quite admirably, don't you?" Blake smiled and nodded. Together, they left Avilla to it rightful residents.

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_A/N: Well, it's all over, right? Perhaps not. Find out how Avon viewed the event in 'Mirrors'._


	7. Mirrors

_A/N: This poem came out of nowhere, after 'Paid in Full' was written. Given Avon's poetry for Vila in 'Housewarming', it seems he continued to pen some when he was emotionally involved in an event, as he certainly was with this one._

_Neither the characters from Blake's Seven nor Darkover belong to me. I just like to play with them!_

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Mirrors

A poem by Kerr Avon.

Two mirrors I've had in my life, up till now,

Two times have I met myself, as it were.

The first time, I'd traveled for over twenty years

To get Vila's help in my time of need.

Vila wasn't enough, though, so they came to me

To deal with the problem, to save, well, me.

The second time, much older was I,

When I met my son, that I never knew,

I wanted to like him, but failed.

Servalan, his mother, had raised him well,

To hate me, detest me, and kill those I loved.

He looked like I did, so they said,

But my madness I saw, with her cruelty o'erlaid,

And knew he was dangerous to me and mine.

He came to kill, of that I was sure,

Though at first I thought it was to be me.

But to Servalan, her revenge he was.

She'd planned for this day since we were young.

Then, I'd rejected her and all her ambitions,

The cost to me and Vila: his family, the first

Of many payments we'd make to her pride.

She pursued us across galaxies and worlds,

She killed our friends, our loves, our lives,

So many untold deaths could be laid at her door

That the black of her hair seemed to stand

For the pitch burned in hell.

She stole my seed of life to produce an heir,

On Terminal it was, or so it she said,

To gain a weapon she could point at my heart

In order to kill what I counted dear.

After all these years, to hold such a grudge,

It's inconceivable, unless you know her.

She was only fifteen when she asked me to be

Consort to her as ruler of the galaxy.

She couldn't take no for an answer, then as now,

And destroyed our first life, Vila's home and family.

She hounded us, trapped us, killed our friends.

With our son as her new weapon, she came to face me.

She wanted to use him. Instead he used her.

He was out of her control, that I knew,

From the first time I saw him, on vidcast,

As he killed Blake's wife.

When he came to Avilla, he was primed

To kill my beloved, whoever it be.

Servalan knew, had known for years,

That Vila was mine and I was his,

But she raised our son to abhor above all

Any relationship such as ours.

She purposely held back the truth from our son,

To make it worse when at last he found out

That no woman had taken me away from his mother,

The mother he loved above all else.

When he found it was Vila, his hate knew no bounds,

Both for me and for Vila,

And perhaps the rest of the world, too.

His hate broke something down deep inside,

A breaking that could not be cured.

My madness, inherited so obviously by Torr,

Combined with her cruelty to make him

The most dangerous man I'd ever met.

He drew his weapon, my love to kill,

And shot Vila. My world crashed down

But when I started his life to end,

She raised Imipak, a threat only to me.

It failed to kill me and Blake saw his chance.

He sprang and grappled and…killed my son.

Blake stood there, over Torr, as once I had over Blake.

The parallel was more than I could bear.

The justice of it all, the revenge of time,

Almost undid my reason, unhinged my mind.

Vila, however, as always my anchor,

The falconer to my falcon, the center that holds.

With him to care for, my center, my heart,

I had to go on, go forward, live life again.

Servalan's plan, her weapon, had failed.

She had nothing to show for her years.

Her son is gone, my life is my own.

With Vila beside me, my life can go on.

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_A/N: Ah, but that isn't the end of this story. There's still a lot of unresolved issues between Avon and Servalan. Find out how these are taken care of, in 'Reflections by Firelight'._


	8. Reflections by Firelight

_A/N: Unresolved issues are causing a lot of problems in Avilla this night._

_Neither the characters from Blake's Seven nor Darkover belong to me. I just like to play with them!_

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Avon rolled over in the bed and sighed as Vila touched his hand.

"Don't let it bother you so much, Avon, it's only happened once before."

"I'm not a young man anymore. Impotency is not totally unheard of at my age," he reasoned.

"But that was a long time ago, and if memory serves, she was the cause of it that other time, too."

Avon lay silently, refusing to comment further on that long-forgotten memory.

Vila rolled over onto his uninjured side. "Avon, our bed won't be big enough for both of us if you insist on bringing this emotional baggage along, too." He spoke quietly, reasonably, but there was something else beneath his words. Frustration? Fear? He'd been living in Servalan's shadow most of his life and he'd plainly had enough. Here on Darkover they'd started a new life and he'd thought they'd finally left their old life behind, only to have her reappear and try to destroy it. She'd failed. But Avon still hadn't accepted that. He just couldn't put the past away from him, so that he and Vila could live free.

Avon of course couldn't deal with this, any of this, rationally. He moved away from Vila, threw the blanket off and left the bed. "I'm being kicked out of our bed now, am I?"

"If that's how you want to see it." Vila crawled out of the other side of the bed, walked around and faced him eye to eye, his body tense and hurting, his eyes steely, his face set. He gripped Avon's arm tightly with his uninjured hand. "You have to have this out with her once and for all and be done with it!" He punctuated the last word with an extra squeeze for emphasis.

"I know," Avon sighed, reaching for his dressing gown. "I wonder if she's having trouble sleeping, too."

"Be careful, Avon. There won't be any guards about inside the house."

"This is my house, Vila. I can take care of myself," he said, glowering at his mate.

"Well, just don't forget who you're dealing with, all right?"

Vila's words still rang in Avon's ears as he moved downstairs and through the darkened hall towards the library.

The glow from the fireplace illuminated the lone silhouette standing by the mantle, back to the door. She didn't turn around as he entered, but acknowledged him with a single word. "Avon."

"I thought you might like to talk, Servalan."

Her back was still to him. "Indeed?" The voice was the same but her fire no longer burned.

"He was my son, too," Avon whispered as he stood behind her now, close but not touching.

She turned and stepped into his embrace. There was no passion, only understanding and shared comfort. He marveled anew at how small and delicate she seemed, so at odds with the aura she'd always projected.

"I would have given anything if it could have ended any other way," he said, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. Releasing her, he walked to the sideboard, removing a decanter and two snifters. "I have this shipped in from Earth. It's rare, old and…"

"…very costly." She completed the statement and accepted the proffered glass.

"Let's sit near the fire, Servalan. Nights here can be very cold, even in the summer."

She sat on the leather sofa, beside him but not touching. "I find it hard to believe you've been happy here, so far away from your kind of civilization."

"Any place can be happy if you have someone to share it with."

Her dark eyes closed for several seconds and Avon saw her unshed tears glistening orange and silver in the firelight.

"How and why did we get here, Avon? After all these years?"

"I've been asking myself that since Torr's burial this afternoon. It was a long journey. I thought it was ended, but now I'm not so sure."

"Oh, it's ended now, Avon. The reason for continuing it lies buried out there on the hillside!" The tears were real ones now and they flowed freely, tracing down her cheeks and falling unnoticed on her robe.

Avon wished for some of Vila's open sensitivity to allow him to hold her while she purged her grief, but it was not his way and Servalan knew it. She was content to let him hold one shaking hand.

"It wasn't all your fault," he finally told her as if he'd read her thoughts. "There was enough of me in him to at least be a contributing factor."

"I know that, Avon." Her reply was bitter-edged. "But I stole the raw material from you, took it and molded it into the man he became. I created a weapon of my own. But in the end, I couldn't control it and it had to be destroyed."

Avon recognized the analogy to Imipak but let it pass. "Did you really hate me so much, Servalan? Was revenge so important to you?"

"Avon…please…"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, not now at least. But you did hate me, didn't you?"

"Maybe at first, but Torr must have picked it up from me and turned it into whatever brought him here. In the end, I suppose I was to blame."

He didn't refute the pronouncement. It was as near to the truth as he cared to be.

"Tell me about…our son, Servalan. What was he like growing up?"

"Oh, he was a difficult child, our son was. I had my hands quite full more than once. Brilliant, troublesome at times, yet he could be loving when it suited his purposes, much like his father." She smiled at the memory even through the fresh tears.

"And you loved him, despite it, Servalan?"

She sighed and wiped her eyes. "No. I can admit that now, at least to you. My original intention was to find a way to destroy you using something that would hurt you terribly. But as you so aptly put it, he was my son, too. My own flesh and blood as much as yours. Oh, Avon, he was so like you as a young man. It hurt sometimes just to look at him…and remember."

"What changed him then? What turned him into that bitter person so full of hate that there was no room for anything else?"

"All my doing this time, I'm afraid. I wanted him to hate you, to destroy you utterly. I wanted you to know your own son hated you that much. I planted the seed of his hatred, I tended it, nurtured it and occasionally watered it with my own tears."

Avon touched a finger to her cheek, gently brushing away the moisture.

"I told him things about his father, things that made him hate you all the more. He blamed you for not being there when he needed a father's guidance. In the end, there was no blame, just hatred."

"Is that why you told him about Imipak?"

"Yes."

"It almost worked, Servalan." Avon pulled away and leaned back, staring into the flames for a moment. "What would have happened, I wonder, if he'd been successful and taken my life?"

"I honestly don't know, Avon. I suppose I would have just gone back to my own world and lived the rest of my life alone. I will anyway."

"You would have turned our son loose on an unsuspecting galaxy? That's a frightening thought."

"I know that now."

"So, tomorrow, you'll just leave as you planned?"

"I must, Avon. There's nothing left for me here. I have my own estates, quite luxurious in a much different way than all of this. I'll be comfortable and safe."

"You'll forgive me, but it sounds boring."

"Quite possibly, Avon, but I've reached a stage in my life when boring sounds almost good to me."

He laughed quietly. "I seriously doubt that." Avon stood, refilled his glass. Leaning on the wall beside the fireplace, he sipped the brandy thoughtfully. "I think I'd better go back to bed, Servalan."

She looked up at him, his face only half lit by the fire. "You've been happy with Vila, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have. We've built a life together here and it's been a good one."

"I almost envy you…but not quite." She put her glass on the end table and stood. "But I made my own bed, Avon. I will sleep in it alone."

"But unlike you, my dear Servalan, I found I didn't enjoy sleeping alone."

He walked to the door, leaving her standing in the darkened room.

"Good night, Avon," she called out. "Sleep well."

"I intend to." He closed the door behind him, headed for the stairs, his bedroom, and Vila.

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Avon quietly pushed the door open. Vila was propped up in the bed, his eyes closed, glasses slipped down on his nose. A novel lay open, face down on his chest. He opened one eye. "I was beginning to get concerned," he said.

"It took longer than I expected but I think the lady and I settled everything between us."

"I'm glad."

Avon approached the bed tentatively. "And is there room in your bed for me now?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"Our bed, Avon," he corrected. "And yes, if it's just you and nothing more."

The other man nodded, dropping his dressing gown. "Just me, love, nothing more."

"Good." Vila moved over and patted the space beside him. Avon slid in beneath the covers next to him.

"Thoughtful of you to warm the bed for me," he remarked and pulled Vila carefully into his arms. "I do love you."

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_A/N: Still not the end! One last chapter, with Avon dealing with losing his son, a son he never knew, in 'Can You Still Hear the Silence?'._


	9. Can You Still Hear the Silence?

_A/N: Avon has dealt with Servalan and is back in Vila's good graces, but is he over losing a son he never had a chance to know? And Vila waits to comfort him, as he always has._

_Neither the characters from Blake's Seven nor Darkover belong to me. I just like to play with them!_

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The gathering clouds threatened and the wind blew bitter cold of the hills.

A lone figure stood on the side of the hill, looking down at the stone marker. It bore no inscription save the name of his only son, Torr Avon.

He pushed the silver bangs from his eyes but the wind blew them back again, obscuring the sight before him.

As the clouds grew darker, angrier, the wind rose higher and higher, whipping the heavy cloak out and back again. He ignored the cold rain beginning to fall. It began in earnest now and he raised his face to it, his own tears mingling with the raindrops.

At the foot of the hill, the large manor house stood. Another lone figure stood sheltered in the back entrance, watching and waiting.

Avon would return to the warmth and safety of Vila's arms when he was done with his own private grieving, and Vila would welcome and enfold him, letting their love dry raindrops and teardrops alike. He could wait…he would wait.

Reverie on a Funeral

By Kerr Avon

The wrought iron fence and gate

Keep the rest of the world out,

But fails to keep my son in.

Though it is summer,

Still snow falls at night

On the grave of my son.

The wind blows my cape about me

And tousles my hair

As I mourn for my son.

His mother comes to stand near,

Though she does not speak.

She raised and knew my son.

Clouds of gray match my mood

As they scud across gray sky,

Passing by as he passed. My son.

I did not know him,

But he knew and hated me.

His mother's hate killed my son.

He came to kill me and the one I loved.

Instead he killed Blake's wife

For a weapon to kill, did my son.

In the end he was killed

Though not by my hand.

I'll never know him, my son.

The wind blows, the snow falls.

My heart grieves in silence.

Can you still hear the silence, my son?

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_A/N: We've finally come to the end of this story. The next piece is called 'Foundling'. Servalan shows up one final time to shake Avon and Vila's world, bringing with her Torr Avon's only legacy._


End file.
